


The Hadison Peculiarity

by Miss221b



Series: Your Friendly Neighborhood 'Verse [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, smoll beans are smoll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 17:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10926759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss221b/pseuds/Miss221b
Summary: “Not a lot of people like me either,” Alex spoke softly, his voice and his face compact with some soft, genuine human emotion that had never been directed towards James before.“I know,” James said.Hamilton smiled. And then he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.Modern day neighborhood au! Today's adventure; that one about how Hamilton and Madison were secretly together for all of four months in senior year, and how in the h-e-double-hockey-sticks that every happened.





	The Hadison Peculiarity

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes this was a singlular chapter in my other fic for this series, Lemonade Stand, about five minutes ago, but I wanted to give these smol beans and their important, short relationship the attention it deserves, and not just make it a flashback that ended up being much longer than I had originally thought. Oops. 
> 
> (FYI present times in this series James and Thomas are together, and live across the street from Laurens/Hamilton as a couple. The itty bitty fact of everything that happens in this fic is not known to Thomas yet, so that'll be a fun one to write!)

James had known Alexander since he had transferred their junior year. Thomas, only his best friend at the time, had immediately taken a dislike to the new kid. It was more than reciprocated; James will never forget the class debate on government influence in environmental policy, of which neither Thomas nor Alexander were a part. Yet still, they both ended up in the principal’s office over it.

            James didn’t have anything against the kid. He had learned early on that if all of Thomas’s enemies were his enemies, he wouldn’t have any friends left. He mostly tried to ignore Alexander’s existence, which was defiantly not at all in part because Alex drew an obscenely large portion of Thomas’s attention, and certainly not because James wanted all of that attention to himself. Not at all.

            Still, if by some chance James _had_ spent the first half of that year struggling with a “Big-Gay-Freakout TM”  over his best friend, it was abruptly cut to an end when Thomas flitted off to France for the second half of the year after Winter Holiday, not to return until the second semester of their senior year. Whatever frustration James held with Alexander was efficiently diverted to the school’s new foreign exchange program. And so it was for several months, the entire summer, and the first three days of Senior year.

            The day had happened regularly enough, and when he heard Burr telling Hamilton to fuck off down the hallway from his locker, he didn’t think anything of it. Alex had that effect on people.

            The situation became a lot more serious to James when he shut his locker door to find Alex on the other side, watching him expectantly like he was in some high school flic. He was such a drama queen.

            “James Madison,” he greeted formally, smiling.

            “Alexander Hamilton,” James answered back, his voice not quite pleasant. He cut his eyes down the hall and saw Aaron roll his eyes at them before walking away.

            “I was hoping I could talk with you,” Alex supplied amicably, undeterred by James’s demeanor.

            “Yes, I can see that,” he replied briskly, turning to walk towards his next class.

            “It’s about that project in Mr. Adams’ class,” Hamilton continued, moving to trot lightly next to him.

            James contained a sigh; he didn’t know what he expected. It was always work with this kid, what was the best way to do quadruple the work for _not_ quadruple the grade? It was something Alex and Thomas often were at odds over.

            Oh. Thomas.

            James shook his head, trying to dispel thoughts of his…friend? Crush? Whatever.

            “What about it?”

            Alex must have seen a shift in James’s face just then, because when he next spoke his voice was less businesslike and more gentle. It was a trait James admired in Alexander to the present day; he was incredible at reading people. What wasn’t so incredible was his instincts once he had that information.

            “Well, I know history is your favorite class, like you’re a total history nerd.”

            “Kettle, meet pot,” James grumbled, not sure whether or not he was offended.

            “My point exactly! You and I are the top students in that class, imagine what we could do with this semester project teamed up!”

            James stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, turning to look incredulously at the other boy.

            “You want to work with me?” He asked, true disbelief ringing in his tone.

            Hamilton stopped as well, and watched James for a moment, his lips pursed, obviously thinking about what he was going to say next. Danger bells were going off in Madison’s head.

            “James, I know that Thomas and I don’t really…appreciate each other’s presence in this universe, and that you’re pretty close with him but…that doesn’t mean you and I can’t be friends. I mean, he’s not even _here_ anymore.”

            James flinched and turned his head sharply to look down the hall, “yeah, thanks, I’m aware of that.”

            Hamilton sighed, and shifted so a crowd of students could push past him.

            “Sorry, I know that’s…a sensitive topic for you. If you don’t mind me asking, and I’m not even asking for the sake of knowing everything about my nemesis, I’m honestly just curious, are you two like…a thing?”

            “ _What_?” James whipped back around, incredulous. Surely he was more subtly than that!

            “Oh,” Hamilton looked alarmed and started to back-peddle, “no then, sorry, that was, um, yeah no I’m sorry. So you’re single then?”

            Alexander’s face mirrored James’ in its disbelief after that last statement, and he continued quickly.

            “No, that, that came out wrong, I swear I’m not trying to…um…”

            James watched as the great Alexander Hamilton grew wordless. Finally they stood in silence, Alexander glaring at the floor and biting his tongue as though trying to figure out where he went wrong.

            “Why don’t you just work with John?” James asked slowly, trying to get a bearing on the crazy situation.

            Alexander himself flinched at this suggestion. Ah, trouble in bff paradise, perhaps?

            “John wants to write about slavery, but I feel very strongly that this occasion is perfect for a more in-depth study of the constitution,” Alex’s words were very deliberate and delicate. James bit his lip, more than aware that Alex wasn’t spilling the whole story. 

 

            “Okay.”

            Alexander’s head shot up hopefully, “okay?’

            Wait, shit, that isn’t what he meant. Or was it? He was having a difficult time reconciling the deep-seated dislike he held for Alexander Hamilton the year prior to the obviously conflicted and _odd_ boy standing in front of him. Suddenly, the bell rang, cutting his thoughts off. Alexander was still there, watching him hopefully as Mr. Marx stepped out into the hallway disapprovingly.

            “Boys,” the economics teacher growled, eyeing them

            “Yes sir, sorry,” James answered quickly, making for the room.

            “James?” Hamilton called behind him.

            Madison sighed harshly, gritting his teeth.

            “Yes, fine, Alexander, we’ll work together.”

            “Great! I’ll pick you up after school, we can work on it at my place!”

            “But it’s not due for another four months?” But when James turned around, Alex was already around the corner.

…

            He spent most of last block hoping Alexander would finally get arrested for the obscene amount of red bulls he totted everywhere, or that maybe James would fall ill with some swift, fatal disease in the next 45 minutes. No such luck, and as soon as he stepped out of the room Hamilton was there, herding him towards the parking lot while chatting animatedly about the several different methods they could use to outline the project. James paid him no mind, watching around them instead for someone else.

            “Where is John,” he cut Alex off to ask. Alex always gave his best friend a ride home after school, but said friend was nowhere to be seen.

            “How the hell should I know, I’m not his fucking keeper,” Alexander bit back, suddenly fiercely irritated.

            “Okay, wow.” James said, raising an eyebrow at the other man.

            “Sorry,” Alex grumbled, looking shamed enough for James to let it go. He was honestly too frustrated with himself for allowing himself to be in this situation to be pissy with Hamilton over his attitude.

            A glance over at said attitude-man’s face revealed that James had inadvertently sparked a flame. Though it was not directed at James himself, he did _not_ want to be stuck with Hamilton all over Friday night with whatever the hell storm was brewing inside of him.

            “I like circle diagrams, myself,” James muttered.

            Hamilton raised an eyebrow, some of the turmoil on his face slipping away.

            “I suppose that could work early on. Big, visual, indefinite but specific. We could make that happen.”

            He wasn’t sure why at first, but that made James smile. It was the “we,” he decided. When he and Thomas worked together, it was all “I.” There was no “we,” despite the fact that James contributed the most sustenance to the work. He never held it against his friend though; he knew Thomas didn’t mean it, he just liked to speak eccentrically, like he wanted everyone to be impressed with him. Sometimes it broke James’s heart when he saw Thomas act that way when it was just the two of them.

            And just like that, the smile was gone. He was aware that Hamilton was watching him, and realized too late that, again, he had allowed too many of his emotions to slip across his face.

            He expected Alexander to say something more about circle diagrams, frankly he was surprised the man hadn’t decimated the concept yet, to break the tension. Instead he remained thoughtfully silent. Probably John, James reasoned.

            Neither of them spoke again until they reached Hamilton’s old car. Washington had offered to buy him a nice new one after he had adopted the immigrant, but Alexander had refused. He worked two jobs over the summer instead, and bought his own car. It was an endearing story, and James smiled at the duck-tapped smeared dashboard.

            “Do you like vodka?” Alex asked suddenly.

…

            James stood over three separate circle diagrams, printed and laminated at his feet. Alexander was laying on the window seat nearby, babbling to himself about the 17th Amendment.

            “I think I’ve figured it out,” James announced loudly, pointing at the middle diagram, “we drew triangles around the words on this one, not circles. That’s what’s wrong.”

            “Impossible,” Alexander cried, throwing himself off his seat and staggering over to wear James stood. They stood together in silence, peering down.

            “James,” Alexander began slowly, “Those are octagons, not triangles.”

            “Who the fuck drew octagons on our circle diagram?”

            “I’m actually pretty sure it was you, is the thing.”

            “Why would I draw an octagon? I hate math.”

            “They do kinda look like circles if you back up,” Alex mused, stroking his stubble.

            “Fuck circles,” James mumbled, looking for where he sat the mostly empty bottle of vodka.

            “You’re vulgar when you’re drunk,” Alexander noted.

            “Fuck drunk, I’m not drunk,” he found the bottle, and tipped the last bit back.

            “James Madison, is this your first time drinking?”

            “Can you burn laminated things?” James asked, motioning loosely towards the octagon/circle diagram.

            “I like drunk James,” Alexander declared.

            “Oh good, glad to know you’ve finally started enjoying my presence,” James mumbled, flopping down on Hamilton’s fucking _huge_ bed and burying his face in the pillow.

            “Oh no, I like not-drunk James too, I just don’t think he likes me,” Hamilton landed next to him with a thud.

            “Well, he doesn’t _dislike_ you,” James supplied reluctantly.

            “Well then I like not-drunk James very much.”

            “huh,” was all James could think to say.

            “Huh?”

            “Yeah. Just. Huh.”

            ‘Huh is a question. Huh means you don’t believe me.”

            “I mean.

            Alexander shifted abruptly until James could feel his breath on his cheek. The man had no damn idea about personal space.

            “You don’t think I like you?”

            “It’s just,” James really didn’t want to be having this pointless conversation, but his mind was too jumbled to jump ship, “not that many people do.”

            Whoop. There it is. Happy fun time with James, no wonder you don’t have any friends. No wonder Thomas left you.

            He burrowed his face further in the pillow, pretending that was the reason breathing suddenly became a lot harder.

            “Oh,” was all Alexander said.

            They sat like that for a moment, James buried in the pillow and Alex doing whatever the hell next to him. When he finally felt like he had enough facial control to force a smile, James lifted his head to peek at the only other person in the room.

            Alexander was lying next to him, one arm wrapped loosely under his chest and the other palm under his face. He was less than four inches away from James, and was watching him intently.

            “Not a lot of people like me either,” Alex spoke softly, his voice and his face compact with some soft, genuine human emotion that had never been directed towards James before.

            “I know,” James said.

            Hamilton smiled. And then he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

            James shifted forwards, bringing their foreheads together as well. His mind still hurt, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t doing it right, but Alexander moved his arm around to cup the back of James’s head and no one had _ever_ touched him like that.

            When they finally pulled apart, leaving a vast two inches between them, James was the first one to speak.

            “Do you want to know something sad?”

            For the first time in his life, Alexander didn’t speak, choosing instead to nod his head slightly.

            “That was my first kiss.”

            “I don’t think that’s sad.”

            “ I don’t know why I do.”

            For the second time in his life, Alexander didn’t speak. He cupped James’s face, bringing him back in. Once he was sure James was secure against his lips, his hands moved down to pull at the man’s shirt.

            James didn’t even open his eyes, allowing the other man’s hands to pull it up swiftly before moving back in to kiss him. They only stopped when Alex’s hands landed questioningly at the waistband of James’s boxers, Alex himself pulling away to look questioningly at the other man. For the first time, Madison opened his eyes. He looked right into Alex’s and nodded.

…

            Afterwards, they sat next to each other in the now fully rumpled bed, sipping the water Alexander had fetched.

            “It’ll help with the hangover,” he said quietly.

            They were both quiet, subdued after what had occurred between them, unsure where to go from there.

            “Were you thinking of John?” _Dammit_ , he must have still been drunk. Why would James say something like that? Still, he was scared to look up. Scared to hear the answer.

            “I think…I think at first I was. But then it was just…it was just you. Was that your first time?”

            “Yes,” James answered meekly.        

            “Oh.”

            “Are you…are you ashamed?”

            Alexander didn’t answer, and blood rushed to James’s face. How could he be so fucking stupid. This was Alexander Fucking Hamilton, tomcat of the school, his _enemy_ for fuck’s sake –

            “Where you thinking of Thomas?”

– a small boy, sitting desolately on the corner of his own bed, trying not to let James see how he tremored.

            “I think at first I was. But Thomas is gone. And you’re here. You’re _with_ me.”

            “Yeah,” Alexander agreed, shaking his head slightly and looking up at James.

            “You know…I really do like non-drunk James too.”

            “Well he thinks you’re pretty good too. So.”

            “Would he like to…keep working on the project with me?” Alexander asked timidly.

            “Of course he would,” James assured quietly.

            “And maybe eat some food. With me. While we work on it. Or maybe even when we’re not working on it?”

            “I think he would like that very much. I’m going to have to check with him though, hold on.”

            Alexander giggled, and James sat back, closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out in concentration. After a moment, he looked back at Alex.

            “Non-drunk James is not taking calls right now, but you can try again tomorrow morning.”

            “I’ll try to remember to do that,” Alex laughed, relieved.

            “But first,” James yawned, “I have to go to sleep to find him.”

            “Okay,” Alexander agreed easily, stretching out on the bed.

            James did the same, moving timidly to press his back against Alex’s front. The other man wrapped his arm around James’s small form, and the two sunk into a deep, exhausted sleep.

           


End file.
